The Darkness Within
by Tarma Hartley
Summary: Based on a drawing by izzy1992 on dA, Let me in. Miles Edgeworth knows that he's seen something, but no one else believes him, insisting that its only his imagination. Is it really only in his mind or is it something more sinister... and very real?


_A/N: I do not own Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright, Manfred von Karma or Franziska von Karma; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, however, is mine. :)_

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_A mysterious apparition appears to Miles, one that fills him with fear and dread. His mentor insists that it's only his imagination but is it really or is it something far more sinister... and real?_

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This is a fic based on izzy1992's wonderfully creepy piece, _Let me in_, on dA.

Hope you enjoy! :)

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Thank you** to my beta reader, Pearls1990, for her reading! Much appreciated! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Comments are appreciated and welcome! :) I'll probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! :)  
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_December 13, 2007  
7:45 A.M._

Fifteen year old Miles Edgeworth awoke that morning with a peculiar sense of something not being _quite _right, a feeling that seemed to grow the longer that he stayed in bed. It was curious, to say the least since he couldn't really pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. He'd had the usual eight hours of sleep; there wasn't anything that was on his mind that he was aware of that could be logically construed as a reason why he would be feeling uneasy and there wasn't anything in his life that needed mending so far as he could wasn't a single reason that he could think of as to why he felt this palpable sense of doom weighing heavily on him.

He wasn't a person who normally gave in to flights of fancy or nighttime terrors and he lay there for some time, trying to think of what could be causing these feelings of dread and account for the chills running down his spine but he kept drawing a blank. His eyes darted back and forth around the darkened room but he couldn't see anything that would explain what. There was no apparent cause for whatever his apprehension was and he determined to think no more about it, having no time to waste with childish silliness and ridiculous fears. He shook his head hard and stretched before he threw back the black comforter, swinging his legs over the bed and slipping his feet into the slippers that he had surreptitiously placed beside the bed the night before.

It was mid-December, after all, and the mornings did tend to be cold and Miles didn't like to put his naked feet on a cold tiled floor; it was an unpleasant feeling, to say the least, and he was one who did prefer to have warm feet on cold mornings as silly as that might sound to some. He stretched once more, lifting his arms high above his head, arching his back for a few moments until he had properly erased all signs of sleep. His muscles tended to be a little stiff on cold mornings so by stretching he tackled the rather small problem and kept it from becoming a much larger one.

He yawned as he leaned over toward the chair in the corner beside his bed where his mauve dressing gown lay neatly folded on the seat and pulled it on, tying the belt tightly around his waist. He stood up and padded toward the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom.

After he had finished brushing his teeth and washing his face, he turned off the light and took a single step forward... and stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw hovering a few inches above the floor two feet from where he stood: a tall man, looking down at the floor with long, slender fingers wreathed in a black mist that twisted and writhed.

Miles' mouth dropped open in shock as he watched the ethereal looking wraith slowly ambling in his direction, freakishly long arms reaching out, fingers spreading toward him as if they wanted to touch him...

_I...I...CAN'T move...! _he thought, his heart hammering in panic. _I...I...!_

He stood rooted to the spot as it came ever closer to him, his eyes widening as the thing lifted its head to look at him, a cold smile spreading over its face, mouth splitting wide, showing rows of sharp, pointed teeth.

**Won't you let me come in?** it asked, its singsong voice reverberating with a cacophonous clang in his mind, its mouth splitting open even wider in a hideous, death's head grin, its teeth shimmering in the overhead light. **Won't you let me come in...?**

Miles opened his mouth to scream but no sound emerged even though he could feel his neck muscles contracting and vibrating. It was as if the thing had effectively paralyzed his throat rendering him incapable of making a sound. He watched it lurching ever closer to him, sickening squelching noises following it in its wake and he could do nothing but wait.

**Won't you let me in, Miles...? Won't you let me in?** That hideous, cacophonous clang grew ever louder, and more painfully clear, with every lurching step it took. He could feel his ears popping, those sounds getting louder...

...and louder

…..and louder. Closer and closer they came until he could feel a cold blast of air rushing by him.

**Won't you let me come in, Miles? Won't you let me in?**

Spidery thin fingers reached out to touch him and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the denouement. He felt something cold prickle his skin and then...

"Miles?" Manfred von Karma's impatient voice rang up the stairs. "Miles!"

As if on command, the chill vanished and he gasped, leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom for support. His heart thudded loudly in his chest and seemed to fill the room with terror-filled pounding. He drew in big breaths of air, his mind whirling, his shaking hand clutching at the collar of his dressing gown.

_What the hell happened?! What ...was that _thing_ and what was it doing here?!_

For one of the very first times in his life, Miles Edgeworth was afraid. He didn't know what had happened; his memory was a tad fuzzy in that regard but he could still feel the after affects of sheer mind numbing terror that was slow to leave him.

"Miles?" the voice sounded close and he yelled, jumping to the other side of the chair that stood beside him, trembling from head to foot. When his vision cleared, he saw the disconcerted face of Manfred von Karma staring at him with marked disapproval.

"What's wrong?" he asked, an elegant eyebrow raising, his voice cold and dismissive.

"Didn't you see it?" he sputtered, eyes darting wildly around the room, a cold chill enveloping his body.

"See _what_, exactly?" Von Karma's voice sounded curious but still dismissive of his prodigy.

"Can't you see it?"

"Again, see _what_?" Von Karma waved his hand around in lazy circles in the air. "There's _nothing_ in this room, Miles, except you... _and_ me."

"You-?" Miles' voice faltered as he looked around only to see that his mentor was right: there_ wasn't_ anything in this room except for the two of them, not a sign of anything out of the ordinary. That horrible... _thing, _whatever it had been, was nowhere to be seen.

Miles blinked a few times to clear his vision and looked around him uncertainly but, as he was forced to admit upon further reflection, there was nothing here except himself and his mentor. There was no writhing black mist; there was no tall man with freakishly long arms and spidery fingers. There wasn't anything here that shouldn't logically be here, as von Karma had pointed out. He was silent for a few minutes, uncertain of what to say until von Karma himself broke the silence.

"I don't know what you think you saw or exactly what happened here, but you're going to be late if you don't hurry up and get dressed." His mentor's voice held a stern note of rebuke. He wasn't one to put up with tardiness and his voice was thick with disapproval.

Miles' face flushed with embarrassment as he mumbled an apology and hastened to dress, practically throwing his clothing on and tying his cravat in record time with von Karma staring at him, arms crossed over his chest, a cold, stern gaze sweeping over him, tapping his foot impatiently. Miles gathered up his books for school and hurried out of the room, von Karma looking after him with an indiscernible expression on his face.

Normally, Miles was a punctual person and prided himself on being so but there was something a little different about him this morning and Manfred couldn't quite put his finger on exactly _what_ that was. He had noticed the boy looking pale and wan and, if he didn't miss his guess, he was also frightened, as well.

_What on earth could have frightened the boy?_ he thought to himself as he strode down the stairs, calling for Franziska to hurry and put on her boots or else they would be late, his brow furrowing. T_hat isn't like him and, until today he's been his normal, well adjusted self. I wonder what happened?_ He glanced over at Miles and then shrugged as he opened the front door and the two bounded out into the frosty snow, heading toward the car parked in the driveway.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_January 15, 2008  
8:45 P.M._

Miles closed the book with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes and sitting back in his chair. It had been a rough week what with Prosecutor's school and household chores that von Karma insisted that he do every week; he was exhausted and really looking forward to his New Year's break.

The last two exams he'd taken were brutal although he was confident that he had passed them so now he could at least have some time to himself. He shivered slightly as the windows rattled from the force of the blizzard outside and he was grateful that he didn't have to go anywhere tonight. His eyes flickered over to the window on the far edge of the room, his mind traveling back to the incident that had happened December 20th.

He had seen the thing a few days after the initial incident, hovering at the top of the stairs but, since then, it hadn't put in an appearance and he was hopeful that it wouldn't again. It was causing him no end of embarrassment for both his mentor and his sister never passed up an opportunity to tease him about his imaginary boogeyman, insisting that it was all a trick of his imagination and that he should forget about it.

He sighed as closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the storm as it raged outside his window. He drifted, his mind free to travel where it would, thinking of books that he had enjoyed, his favorite professors and classes in school, of past friends. He floated pleasantly on a sea of memory, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, a blissfully warm and content feeling washing gently over him.

All was right in his world. And then...

That same chill feeling saturated the air once more and he leapt to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. That same terror filled feeling was back... and much more permeating than it had been before. Miles whirled around to see that awful apparition standing behind him, mouth opened wide in a sinister smile, teeth glimmering in the dim, overhead light.

**Won't you let me come in?**

Miles tore out of the room, running as hard as he could until he reached the stairs but, before he could take another step, he was frozen to the spot. He gasped in pure fear, his arms rooted to his sides and his feet immobile on the floor. He knew _what_ was coming...and he was powerless to stop it.

**Won't you let me in, Miles?**

He could hear the hideous wet shuffling sounds coming from behind him and he trembled, unable to move and unable to make a sound.

**Won't you let me in?**

Two feet away from him and closing in. Miles could feel his eyes well with tears although he tried desperately to hold them back, his mind screaming in abject terror. He was trapped, like a fly in a spider's web, and all he could do was wait for the doom that was rapidly closing in on him.

**Won't you-**

Closer. It was coming closer. He could feel the cold air rush past him, a fetid breath wash over him and he could do nothing except stand there. And wait.

**-let me in?**

Death was coming for him and he could do nothing except wait for it to take him in it's paralyzing, and eternal, grip.

**Let me in...**

_Help me! Somebody, please; HELP ME!_

A helpless pawn, he could feel doom wash over him as the thing reached him, taking him into a lover's embrace from behind. He could feel the thing's spidery fingers stroking his skin almost tenderly, feel its foul breath on the back of his neck; he cringed in disgust but was forced to put up with the unwanted embraces.

_Phoenix! HELP ME!_

He hadn't thought of that name in years and he wasn't sure why he did at this moment or why that person should have sent a jolt of pain through his heart. He gasped inwardly, the frenetic racing of his heart loud in his ears, moaning inwardly.

**Won't you-**

Miles could feel tears start to course down his face. He couldn't stop them; he wasn't even in control of his own body anymore. Thin fingers ghosted softly over his neck, the other slowly traveling up his shoulder and covering his left eye completely and the bridge of his nose, the fingers separating with one resting above his right eyebrow, the other under his right eye.

**-let me in, Miles?**

The voice was taunting, growling with a sinister purpose. Miles could all but feel those sharp teeth gnawing on his flesh.

**Let! Me! In!**

Tears ran down his face as the thing opened its mouth and took possession of him, his last thought of the childhood friend he'd known all those years ago. In the final moment of his life left to him, his lips parted and he whispered, his voice imbued with despair, "Phoenix..." feeling the thing's teeth latch on to him and his eyes closing.

In that instant, Miles Edgeworth ceased to exist and, in his place, the Demon Prosecutor was born.

**~Fin~**

**Yesterday, upon the stair,  
I met a man who wasn't there.  
He wasn't there again today,  
I wish, I wish he'd go away...**

**-Hughes Mearns**


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